BumpnGrind

by Sam Cheever

  “Please, Mistress Spanky…”

  Felicia giggled.

  “Please let me fuck you. Hard. Long. And fast.”

  Felicia’s mouth moved from his nipples to his lips. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and bit down on it, giving it the same treatment she’d given his nipples. Garrett held his breath, praying she’d take pity on him soon.

  “Okay.” She rose up and grasped him, plunging him deeply into her body.

  Garrett’s eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure swamped him. His toes curled under and his legs went rigid from the intensity of being buried deep within her. Finally. But then he realized something. “Wait, no condom.”

  Felicia lowered her lips to his and lifted her hips until only the fat head of his cock remained inside. “We’ll adjust.” She slammed back down on his cock and all the breath left Garrett’s lungs. The world fell away. All thoughts of earlier events were buried behind the sensations she was creating. His whole awareness narrowed down to the woman riding his cock.

  Her kiss savaged his mouth. She angled her head to take the kiss ever deeper and speared her tongue between his lips. Their tongues danced hungrily as their bodies climbed toward orgasm.

  Not used to being passive when making love with a woman, Garrett pulled constantly at his bonds. He ached to hold her heavy breasts in his hands and control the intensity of their joining. But he found other ways to contribute. Digging his heels into the bottom of the tub, he arched his hips, making it easier for her to ride his cock and fuck him senseless. He gritted his teeth, praying he’d be able to hold out longer than Felicia.

  Her body tightened around his, enticing, encouraging him toward release. He thought about the looming pro football strike to keep from being pulled over the edge. Felicia’s eyes were closed, her mouth was open, and sexy little sounds were emerging from her throat as she worked him, riding his cock like her own personal rodeo bull, while she palmed her own breasts and tweaked her creamy brown nipples.

  A few minutes later she stopped moving, shuddered once, and jerked into release. Her pussy grasped his cock, milked it, and sent it into the first spasms of release.

  Garrett dropped his hips to dislodge her from his shaft just as he started to come. Felicia settled herself over his balls and rubbed herself along his full length, sending him into new spasms of pleasure with the feel of her soft pussy against his skin.

  As his muscles softened into the aftermath of his orgasm, Felicia collapsed over him, panting. “I really kicked your ass, didn’t I?”

  Garrett captured her soft lips, inhaling her laughter. “I’m totally subjugated, bruised and battered.”

  Biting her bottom lip, she reached over him and tugged on the tie, releasing his hands. “Hopefully not too battered and bruised. I was thinking, maybe, you might like to return the favor…” she grinned at him, “Master Dom.”

  Garrett laughed. “Master Dom at your service. Just give me five minutes to catch my breath.”

  She stood and climbed from the tub, grabbing a thick, heated towel and heading toward the bed. “Take your time. I’ll just be right out here…waiting.”

  Garrett dumped half the water from the tub to the floor as he leapt out and ran after her.

  A moment later the play began with a wet body slam down onto the bed and a lot of happy squealing.

  * * * * *

  Felicia sat at the bar and watched Garrett perform. He was dressed as an Egyptian pharaoh and had a fake cobra around his waist, flicking it suggestively at the ladies who were packed around the stage. She’d wavered between laughing at the antics going on and wanting to scratch the eyes out of a couple of the more insistent women.

  Especially the cute little blonde who was just about Garrett’s age and looked like she wanted to eat him for dessert.

  Felicia forced herself to stay at her table, away from the stage, and take comfort from the occasional wink from Garrett as he managed to evade the clutching fingers and occasional stage hopper with practiced ease.

  Bliss strolled over from the bar, where she’d been chatting with Bruno, and slid into the seat next to her. “Cute costume, huh?”

  Felicia saw the suspicious sparkle in her friend’s eye and nudged her with an elbow. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to seeing women throw themselves at him.”

  Bliss cocked her head. “Ever? As in long-term relationship? Dare I hope you’ve joined the sisterhood and the twenty-first century?”

  Felicia pinched her friend’s arm. “Maybe.”

  Bliss let out a whoop that had people at several nearby tables glancing their way. Felicia ducked her head with embarrassment. “You go, girl! I’m proud of you.”

  “It’s not like it’s a huge hardship dating Garrett, you know.”

  Bliss guffawed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Felicia could feel herself turning red.

  “Felicia?”

  She turned and looked at the woman who’d spoken. For a moment she couldn’t put a name with the vaguely familiar face. Then it clicked. It was Susie Walters. She’d been a friend once, before Felicia’s divorce.

  “Hi, Susie. How are you?”

  The woman looked embarrassed. “I-I’m good. I’m surprised to see you here.”

  All the old feelings of rejection resurfaced. Susie Walters was part of the group of women who’d rejected her after the divorce. Felicia had thought Susie, and a few others, were her friends. She’d learned differently once she was no longer part of a couple. Felicia opened her mouth to give the woman back a smart retort…but then she realized she didn’t really care about all that anymore. She had real friends now, people who liked her for herself, not because she was married to one of the wealthiest men in the county.

  “I’m here to watch my lover dance.”

  Susie Walters staggered comically, her hand going to her heart. “Are you serious?”

  Felicia laughed at the woman’s shocked face. “I am. That’s Garrett.” She pointed toward the stage and Susie’s gaze swung to where Garrett and his…snake…held the roomful of women entranced by their athletic swaying, bumping, and grinding.

  Susie’s face, when she turned back, was filled with awe. Her mouth opened and she just stood there, as if unsure what to say. Finally she lifted a hand toward Felicia. “Give me five, honey, you are one lucky bitch!”

  Felicia patted the chair on her other side and Susie sat down.

  “So,” Felicia asked the other woman, “What are you doing here?”

  Susie had to wait to speak because the music stopped and the room erupted in applause and ribald cheers. When it quieted down, Susie said, “Some of my friends and I have been coming here for weeks. It’s fun, and we feel a bit like we’re getting away with something.”

  Bliss nodded knowingly. “That’s how it started with me too. Then it became an addiction. Now I come here several times a week.” She grinned wickedly. “Sometimes I bring my boyfriend.”

  Susie’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. “I’m thinking about coming on Wednesday nights. I understand they have customer sandwich night on Wednesdays.”

  Bliss laughed, leaning closer. “Honey, let me tell you, they do not skimp on the meat in that sandwich.”

  Felicia narrowed her eyes at Bliss. “What the hell is a customer sandwich?”

  The two women at the table with her shared a knowing look. “Oh, you’ll see. I’m bringing you here on Wednesday. You haven’t lived until you’ve become the middle in a male stripper sandwich.”

  Felicia’s eyes widened as she realized what they were talking about. “Oh my!”

  Susie said, “Ah. Hey, did you hear what happened to Dave Foust?”

  “Something happened to Dave? I called his office yesterday to get an appointment and was told he’d be out for an extended period of time. They wouldn’t tell me why though. What happened?”

  Susie sat back in her chair, her face filled with horror. “Somebody came into his office and beat him pretty badly with a lamp.”
<
br />   Felicia’s mouth went dry and her pulse shot into panic range. Stars sparkled in front of her eyes as the blood flooded from her face.

  “Are you okay?” Susie’s face swam for a moment behind the stars but Felicia took a deep breath and managed to keep from passing out.

  “When did this happen?”

  Susie’s face screwed up as she thought about it. “Friday night, I think.”

  Felicia’s world crashed around her. She looked up to see Garrett, looking handsome and sexy in his street clothes, striding toward her with a smile on his face. Suddenly she felt as if she would throw up.

  The Yoga Studio had been trashed Thursday night. The next day, Friday, as they stood in the parking lot with Giorgio and Penelope, Garrett had accused Dave of being responsible and had vowed Dave wouldn’t get away with it. Maybe that hadn’t been all talk.

  Without warning her mind showed her images of Garrett grabbing Dave and flinging him up against the car…of punching the guy who’d accosted her in the bar and then…his battered body in the parking lot.

  Felicia moaned and stumbled up, running toward the ladies’ room to throw up. She only hoped she made it in time so she didn’t add abject embarrassment to the horror that her life had just become.

  Chapter Ten

  Garrett waited anxiously outside the ladies’ room, listening to the sounds of retching and then sobbing through the door. He’d sent Bliss in there several moments earlier and was just about ready to invade the sanctity of the ladies’ room to check on Felicia.

  He’d already decided he was going in if she didn’t come out in five minutes.

  When the door finally opened he looked up expectantly. It was Bliss. Her dark gaze was wary. Garrett stepped forward. “Is she okay?”

  Bliss stepped back, glancing toward the bar with something that looked like fear in her eyes.

  “Bliss? What the hell’s going on here?”

  “She doesn’t want to see you, Garrett. You need to go away and leave her alone.”

  He took a step toward the door and Bliss stepped directly in front of him, her beautiful brown face paling noticeably. “I’m not going to let you in there, Garrett. You can hit me if you want, but I won’t go down without a fight.”

  Garrett just stared at her, shock making his mind go blank. “Hit you? What the hell are you talking about? I wouldn’t hit you. Why would I hit you?”

  “I don’t know, Garrett. Why would you hit anybody?”

  He shook his head. “You aren’t making any sense, Bliss. This doesn’t make any sense. Get out of my way so I can go see if Felicia is all right.”

  She stood her ground, looking terrified. “I can’t. Go away, Garrett. Leave her alone. She’s scared of you.”

  That stopped him. He brushed a hand over his eyes, trying to make sense of what Bliss was saying. “Scared of me? Why? What’s happened?”

  “Somebody beat the living hell out of Dave Foust.” Garrett turned at the sound of Bruno’s voice behind him. He didn’t like the look on his friend’s face. Bruno should have known better than to think Garrett would beat a defenseless older man.

  But apparently he didn’t.

  “The cops just called to ask about the altercation in the parking lot. Seems they’re looking at all possible suspects and you’re on that list.”

  Garrett felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. “And you all think I did it?”

  Bruno’s gaze was intent, unrelenting. Bliss lifted her chin, looking more confident since Bruno was there to back her up.

  Garrett expelled a frustrated breath. “Really, Bruno? You’ve known me for years, buddy.”

  His friend’s rugged face softened slightly. “It looks bad, man. I just think it would be best if you left now.”

  Garrett stood there for a moment longer, looking back and forth from Bliss to Bruno. He briefly considered pushing Bliss aside and barging into that ladies' room to assure Felicia that he was innocent but he’d probably just scare her more if he did, and he had to admit to a small amount of anger that she would believe the worst of him that way.

  Finally he swore softly and left the bar. Heading to his car, he glanced toward the spot where all the problems started. The spot where he’d caught Dave Foust accosting Felicia and had stopped him.

  Garrett played the episode back in his mind, looking for things that might make Felicia think he was capable of that kind of anger or violence. All he’d done was make Foust stop bothering Felicia.

  He’d barely touched the man, and now they thought he’d tried to kill him.

  What kind of woman turns on her lover like that, completely disregarding their history together?

  Garrett tried not to think about that as he climbed into his car and pulled out of the lot. He had other things to think about at the moment, like clearing his name.

  There’d be time enough to deal with Felicia’s and Bruno’s defection.

  But he doubted time would make it any easier to get over Felicia turning on him. Garrett doubted there was time enough to soften that one.

  * * * * *

  The following evening,Felicia refused to let Bliss and Bruno come in and sit with her. All she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts. She had to go over everything one more time and try to get it straight in her mind.

  Nothing made sense.

  Nothing she’d been thinking felt right.

  The Garrett she’d grown to love would never beat an older man, no matter what the man had done. But, her traitorous mind kept telling her, Garrett had been so angry at the yoga studio, and he was young and strong. While Dave Foust wasn’t. It would have been easy for Garrett to overcome him.

  Felicia stood up and started pacing her living room. Her thoughts were too uncomfortable to take sitting still.

  When her thoughts kept spinning around, getting ever more tangled and less clear, she decided she had to take her mind off it for a while or she’d go crazy. She wandered around her house for a while, trying to settle into something that could occupy her mind. She even sat down at her computer and tried to go through her emails.

  There was another note from the creep who’d called her a whore. She’d been deleting them all week, at the rate of at least one a day. She didn’t even read them anymore.

  She’d received the last one the day before Dave apparently had been beaten. Sighing, Felicia went to the KittyKat Club to see who was online. Four women were in the chat room.

  FelicitousFeline: Hello.

  Crazycougar: Hi FF!

  Cougarlicious: Hi Felicia. How’s it going?

  FelicitousFeline: Not so good actually.

  Cubhunter: Hey Felicia. What’s wrong?

  FelicitousFeline: I have to ask a hard question.

  Silvercat: Go ahead, honey. No question is out of bounds here.

  FelicitousFeline: Have any of you found that your cubs are more hotheaded than an older man would be?

  Silvercat: Is your cub hitting you? You don’t stand for that, honey. I don’t care how hot he is!

  Cubhunter: *Nodding* violence is unacceptable.

  Cougarlicious: Not so fast, ladies. Why do you ask, Felicia?

  FelicitousFeline: I can’t explain it all, but some things have happened and Garrett has been accused of beating somebody.

  Cubhunter: Oh honey. Do you think he did it?

  FelicitousFeline: I just can’t see him hurting anybody like that. If they attacked him, or somebody he cared about, yes, but…

  Cougarlicious: The answer to your original question is no. They’re men, no matter what age they are. Some are good, some are bad. But younger men aren’t any more likely to be violent than older ones.

  Silvercat: Honey, if your gut is telling you he didn’t do it, than I’d go with that. If it’s your heart…then you’d better look more closely before you decide.

  Silvercat: Sometimes our hearts lie to us.

  FelicitousFeline: That’s the problem isn’t it? I don’t know what I’m hearing, my heart, or my instincts.
>
  Cougarlicious: Good luck Felicia. Let us know what happens, okay?

  Felicia promised to get back to them when it was all over and stood, heading into the kitchen to make some tea. Maybe it would calm her nerves. As she filled a mug with water from the tap, Felicia realized there was somebody she could talk to about Garrett.

  Penelope and Giorgio. They’d known Garrett a long time and Garrett had told her Giorgio had come looking for him that night. Maybe Giorgio could put her mind to rest about Garrett.

  Felicia set the mug down and grabbed her purse. It was getting late. She just hoped Penelope and Giorgio were at the studio, or she’d have to get creative and try to find their home address.

  * * * * *

  Garrett had been at the police station most of the day. After leaving the club the night before, he’d decided to get a good night’s sleep and tackle the task of clearing his name with a clear head. He sat across from Detective Hanks again, watching him write laboriously as Garrett told him where he’d been and what he’d been doing during the time Dave Foust was being attacked. It was a long, slow process, given the fact that Hanks seemed to have trouble holding on to the tiny, chewed pencil with his sausage-like fingers.

  “Don’t they give you real pencils here?”

  Hanks looked up, his small eyes filled with surprise. “I like this pencil.”

  Garrett snorted.

  Finally Hanks set the pencil down and stood up. “Let’s get you printed.”

  Garrett followed him into the fingerprint area, hoping the cops had some good prints to compare against his. He really didn’t relish the idea of getting Guido involved again, especially to represent him against an attempted murder charge.

  * * * * *

  Felicia knocked on the frame of the open front door and stuck her head inside. The studio smelled like a combination of fresh paint, bleach and smoke. She wrinkled her nose and stepped inside. From the front door, except for the smell, the place looked fairly normal. But when she followed the sound of music and voices to the large studio where most of the damage had been done, she realized just how badly the vandal had hurt the studio’s owners.

  The wood floor was charred and burned away in a large area in the center. One long wall was covered with graffiti in blood-red paint. Scorch marks stained the white walls and black soot coated the wall of mirrors.